


Second Lives

by JeanFi



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Pregnancy, Romance, Slow Build, Slow To Update
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-08
Updated: 2018-01-19
Packaged: 2018-02-07 23:24:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 19,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1917999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JeanFi/pseuds/JeanFi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A few years after graduation, the classmates are now adults.  What if it wasn't the start of their happily ever after as they had planned?   Hermione is given refuge and comfort from the last person she expected.  Along the way, she finds out he is much more than she thought.   Who is Draco Malfoy?   Adult Draco is most certainly not the little bully of the past, now he is an elegant man.  {Yes, I killed Ron off}</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Death and Life

**Author's Note:**

> A wedding becomes a funeral. A rival becomes a comfort.
> 
> Thanks goes to http://archiveofourown.org/users/SABATHco/pseuds/SABATHco for niggling my brain into exploring the Harry Potter supporting cast. This fell out. More chapters to come, not sure how fast I will be in updating.

Second Lives

　

Draco waits until everyone is far enough away before approaching. He still doesn’t know what he is going to say to her. Glancing away from the only remaining seated mourner, he looks up to his former classmate, Harry Potter, hoping for an answer. They lock gazes. Harry’s gaze narrows in warning even though his arms are latched tightly around his own grieving wife, Ginny. Draco stalls in his approach to Hermione who is still seated before the closed casket.

Drooping his shoulders, the tall blond man makes it clear to his former rival that he comes to this place of mourning with only peaceful intentions. He will make no further move until he is sure that Harry understands this.

Harry looks down to his pregnant weeping wife and then to the rest of Ron’s family that are heading back to the family home to continue the wake. As brother in law to the deceased, he has a responsibility to the family, but as one of Hermione’s best friends he can not leave her either. He’s torn and knows the former bully can see it. Is he going to take advantage of this or is he really here peacefully?

With a soft hand crossed to his chest, Draco silently lets the other man know he will take over Hermione’s protection so the other can do his family duty. He is well aware that Harry has not had a true family and now finds himself torn. Hermione and Ron had been as close as any siblings Harry could ever have hoped for and now he is torn between sitting with consoling his friend or his wife and now family. Draco flicks his fingers off his chest to shoo the married one away.

Draco himself may not be married, but he understands by example the duty of family. After all, it was family loyalty that made him quite sick that year of the final battle. Not just in his heart to do what he didn’t want to, but also the toll it took on his body. It took a lot out of him not just because of his family but choices he had to make about Slytherin friends as well. Power comes at a cost of relationships. In the end, power means nothing compared to relationships, though.

He saw that quite well with Ron, Hermione, and Harry. He may never openly admit it, but was a bit jealous of how honestly loyal they were to each other.

Now that his body has recovered and is feeling healthier, he is also finding himself wanting to be healthier in relationships as well. Yes his parents have told him who they WANT him to marry, but they are backing off of that arranged marriage deal as well. That war didn’t just change Harry or Hogwarts, it changed everyone.

 

Harry opening releases a sigh then gives a soft nod in accepting Draco‘s honest expression. He really has no other choice even though it is killing him to leave his grieving best friend in the care of another, one that he used to not trust, no less. Still, in the end, Draco is not such a bad guy, he has to admit. He saw the angst on his face when he was supposed to kill Dumbledore. .

When Draco takes two more forward steps, Harry curls Ginny into moving away.

Draco says nothing to the silent yet tear streaked woman as he slowly lowers himself into to chair at her side. In her hands is a bouquet of flowers a bride is supposed to carry on her wedding day, but her clothing is a stiff black suit. The rest of the flowers that were meant for the wedding today now ring the wooden casket just a few feet before them. Today is not at all what it was supposed to be. A freak accident yesterday instantly turned a bride into …what is she? She can not even be declared a widow for the vows were not declared.

“What am I going to do?” Hermione mutters plucking a rose apart letting the petals float down to the ground.

“Your parents?” He inquires softly.

Her head shakes, “I didn’t release the spell yet. We planned to honeymoon down there and let them know then. It seemed like an easier way to …,” the rest trails away as she bites her lip.

He knows she is hiding something more. “Won’t the Weasley’s take you back? Certainly they don’t blame you for the accident!” Even if his family can be proud and haughty, the Weasley’s have been nothing but kind and compassionate people.

Hermione jerks her head sharply right and left but says nothing more just continuing to tear a second rose to bits.

“Hermione,” his hand actually lays over hers to still it’s destruction.

In the past she would have recoiled from the bully‘s touch, but this isn‘t that little kid any more trying to prove his snark is bigger than his height. Beside her now sits a tall man with a compassionate touch and supportive words. If he has taller schemes brewing at this time, she is too numb to care. Right now she has her own secret worries to deal with.

“I can’t go back right now, Draco,” she whispers with a trembling chin. “I can’t face Ron’s family.”

Without a second thought, his hand slides away from hers to wrap around her shoulder pulling her against his own.

To her own surprise, she leans into the Slytherin’s perfect frame. Everything is immaculate about Draco Malfoy, so unlike her Ron. Where Draco is pressed and poised, Ron was goofy and softly rumpled. Not a hair out of place verse hair that went everywhere it pleased…like her own normally does but right now is pulled taught in a severe braid due to the severity of her adult situation. Hermione knows she shouldn’t find comfort against this man, but she does. No she doesn’t blame Harry for seeing to the comfort of his own wife and now family, she just wishes she could feel comfortable there too. Instead she is feeling most comfortable against a pristine man who used to have his own serious secrets.

The flowers fall from her hand into his lap. He folds his other hand around hers that still bears an engagement ring and brings it up to his chest, “You don’t have to face them or anyone, Hermione.”

“B-but where will I go? Wha-what will I do?” Her body racks in sobs against his chest. Mentally she curses herself for breaking down with him of all people, but grief can not always be controlled. Sometimes it eats through protective shields of propriety.

Her racking body is the confirmation that he needs that there is more to her grief than just Ron’s death and a promised marriage that will never begin. He also knows that he will get no further answer from her now. This is just not the time or place. Right now she needs shelter, protection, and comfort. Yes it’s something that people do not think his black heart possess, but in fact it’s something very deep to him. His parents love him ever so much and would -and did!- do anything for him. Time he gave that same comfort back, if the Gryffindors shown him anything.

There’s a strength in Granger that he always found vexing and somewhat appealing. Irritating but also a constant challenge during their school days. When he had started delving further into his work for the Dark Lord, he certainly missed his sparring and spatting matches with her.

Maybe that is why it is so heartbreaking to see the strong and tenacious woman so lost right now. In a very soft voice, he hopes that she will hear all his sincerity, “Hermione, it’s time to go. It will be dark soon and the rain is coming in. Please, let me take you to my manor. You can stay as long as you like.”

Hermione turns her cheek against his expensive suit lapel to look up into his caring silver eyes. There she sees a sincerity she’s never seen before. This is no ruse or trick. “But your parents--,” she has to try objecting.

He pushes the objection aside easily, “Aren’t home right now and even if they were, I would deal with them. Now, let us … let him go,” he gives her hand a squeeze.

It takes her a few deep breaths before she can take a last look at the casket holding the body of her fiancé. Draco presses the bouquet back into her hand along with a bit more encouragement. Together they rise and with his arm around her shoulder for support, they step up to the casket. Hermione lays her bridal bouquet on the top of the casket then leans over to give a last kiss.

Draco is quite surprised that she says nothing to the deceased man after all they years she had with him and was supposed to continue having with him. She just says a silent blessing, lay a soft hand to the lid and then turns away. Draco himself lays his hand down and silently promises Ron that he will look after Hermione before returning to her side. Still silent, he tucks her hand into his elbow as a gentleman of his class should and guides them back to his family home.

~~

By the time they make it back to the Malfoy Manor, the last few days have finally taken their toll on Hermione. Past the threshold is her last step. There is no way she is going to make it down the long halls or up the three flights of stairs to the guest room. Draco does not give her a chance to object, just scooping her up into his arms leaving a house elf to secure the door behind them. Hermione gives no argument to his gentle actions. Even if she wanted to verbally argue, her body just couldn’t allow it. His smooth gate, comforting arms, upper-class cologne, and even the fact that his body is so different than her past love’s is a safe place to relax. She doesn’t have to feel guilty about comparing Draco to Ron because they are so different that her heart won’t confuse the two and take advantage of the situation.

For Draco, this isn’t infatuation or even love, its…the right thing to do. To look after and protect one of his own classmates. After everything their class went through and how many they have already lost, he just can not bear to watch another die. He was even looking forward to another couple of nerdy Gryffindor bonding in marriage. Most of all these two who truly cared for each other. He may not have a love of his own, but the least he can do is take care of another.

With each step, Hermione leans heavier and heavier into the Slytherin Knight.

With each step, he tucks her closer breathing in the warm scent of a resting woman.

By the time they make it to the guest room closest to his own private room, the witch is sound asleep. A house elf has already scuttled ahead to leave the door open and the lighting low. Even the bed linens have been turned down for her making it easier for Draco to tuck her in.

It makes him smile to smell the scent of soft lavender from the crisp mint green sheets. His mother always insisted that guest linens have the soothing scent of calming lavender. Not that Hermione needs the lavender to help lull her to sleep, but certainly it shall be a comforting scent for her when she awakens in a strange room.

Ever so gently he lays her head upon the downy pillow. He ponders for a moment if he should release the braid in her hair or will the loose lock just make it more tangled in the morning? As he ponders that thought, he looks to her sweet face finally at peace while sleeping. They have all been through so much. These are supposed to be the happiest days of their lives, why did fate have to take the love of her life just as peace has come!?

With a soft deep breath, he pulls his attention away from her face and down to how to make her more comfortable. First he cups her calf to slip the pumps off her feet and tuck them at the foot of the bedside. Now for the snug suit jacket with the hard brass buttons. This is a more delicate procedure. For if she awakens he certainly does not want her to think he is trying to take advantage of her! Does he dare to touch her or just use a spell?

“Ron…,” she mumbles, rolling over, and buries her face into the pillow.

Well that answers the question for him. With a flick of his wrist and a soft incantation, her jacket and subsequent skirt with matching large brass buttons slip themselves off and fold respectfully over the dressing chair before the mirror.

He does use his own hands though to pull the bedcovers over her shoulders and tuck her in. Now he just isn’t sure if he should leave the room or stand vigil over her in case she should need anything in the night.

Hermione is a tough woman but she is still a grieving woman who has had the rug yanked out from under her with a simple slip and fall. There is no magic spell that can save anyone from a freak accident. From what he heard, it just happened so fast. One moment Ron was standing on a chair to tie up the canopy for the wedding reception and the next his foot slipped. He didn’t even have time to cry out before his head struck the sharp rock down below. Not only did he get struck in the temple, but the blow had snapped his neck to the side. Life is mortal. Everyone who is born dies at some time.

Draco finally moves to blow out the light on the bedside and leaves the room. He asks an elf stand to guard in case she should need anything.

As he turns to his own room, sighs again. If he could, he would trade places with Ron. Its not like he had anyone waiting for him other than his parents. Unlike Ron who had a best friend, a sister, a brother and loving parents not to mention a wife waiting for him to share the rest of his life with. This just isn’t fair.

 

Sleep does not come easily to the tall blond man that night. The final battle at Hogwarts has left him with a lot to think over. Sure to most everyone he looks like an arrogant snot, and yes he will admit, he can be. But war changes people, too. Boys become men. It’s a time to prove your true character and find out what really matters. This is where you find out where your true friends are, or what you want in a true friendship. Yes, they maybe of different houses, but in the end they are all under Hogwart’s Shield.

When sleep does finally come, it is restless and wrought with nightmares. The nightmares are not what brings him awake in the morning though. It’s an elf pounding on his door.

“Master! The lady is sick! Please come quickly!”

Draco launches from his bed in nothing flat, tugging on his robe as he runs to Hermione’s room.

~~

Hermione herself had a restless night, which not too surprising. What brings her up in the morning though is her stomach rebelling on her. She is ever so grateful that this strange room she finds herself in at least has a typical basin and pitcher near the bedside. The basin becomes the recipient of what very little she had in her stomach. In three heaves, it becomes a dry vomit which is probably even worse than if she’d had a full stomach.

She is still hanging over the basin when she feels a long fingered hand brush her loose tendrils from her face. “Hey, are you alright?”

Slow breaths and rubs fingertips into her forehead. “I will be, just give me a moment.”

With a roll of his wrist, a cup is half filled with water and brought to his other hand so he can help her drink from it. Hermione takes a small sip to rinse her mouth and spit it into the bowl.

“I’m so sorry, Draco. I… feel…” She’s grateful he can’t see her face, but then makes the mistake of lifting her head. There he can see her face by the reflection in the mirror. Even though her face is quite pale, her cheeks flush deep in embarrassment.

There is something else she sees though. Disheveled Draco’s face is frowning in deep concern for her. He is not disgusted by her illness. If anything he is quite worried and searching her face for signs of what ails her. “Should I get a potion for you?”

Her eyes look into his with the help of the mirror. “Draco, there is no potion that can ease this.”

The tall reformed gentleman will not accept that answer and turns her away from the mirror by her shoulders so she is looking into his true eyes. “No, tell me what is wrong. Something must be done to comfort you.”

The color begins to return to her lips a tugs up into a half smile. “I’ll survive.”

“I know you will,” but he doesn’t smile back. It’s a hard statement of fact, “That’s not what I asked, though.”

Hermione softly wraps her hands around his narrow wrists gently pulling them off her shoulders. She is grateful that he allows her to break the contact. For that, she feels she must offer him some sort of answer. How to break the news that only a select few know?

Draco might let her break the contact, but he is not going to leave the room until he is sure she is truly going to be fine. When she sits back down on the bed resting her back to the headboard, he steps forward to help her tuck the coverings back up. The one piece slip she wore under her suit might have kept her discretely covered but it’s certainly isn’t warm enough for the morning chill of this room. If she is already sick, he doesn’t want her getting any worse on his account.

She tucks the coverings under her arm pits folding her hands into her lap. There she leaves her eyes on the tiny sparkling ring. “There’s another reason we rushed the wedding.”

Draco snorts turning the dressing chair backwards before straddling it. “Rushed? Come on Hermione, you and Ron should have married before even Potter. Everyone knows that!”

“We weren’t as perfect as everyone thought. He was easily jealous and intimidated. It could get to be a bit frustrating sometimes. A few times I was even ready to break it off completely and go my own way. But now…”

“’But now’ what?” He rests his chin on folded hands over her suit.

There‘s a long silent pause and then, “I’m…. pregnant,” she finally whispers not even lifting her eyes.

The shyness to her answer leaves him speechless. This was not at all what he was expecting. Basic protection had been covered in health class so it’s rare to hear of anyone of the wizarding world to become pregnant accidentally, let alone a couple as in love as Ron and Hermione to be shy about it.

“A baby?” Draco looks to where her hands softly lie against her belly He didn‘t notice anything last night so she must still be in the early stages. “Who knew?”  
“Harry, Ron and Ginny. That was one of the other reasons we were going to wait to see my parents. Now, I just don’t know.” She takes a few more breaths then looks up to him. “How am I supposed to tell Ron’s parents I am carrying their bastard grandchild? How am I supposed to release the spell on my parents only to arrive home unwed and carrying a child and a an excuse that sounds like a bold faced lie? What am I going to do?” Then once more ashamed, she turns away when his chin starts to rise off his crossed wrists.

“Hermione…” the soft release of her name also has him rising off the chair.

“If you leave, I will get dressed and-”

“Go where?” He sinks to the bed by her feet. Not close enough to intrude on her space, but close enough to lay a soft hand to her covered ankle. “Stay.”

The auburn head of loose tendrils snaps back to look at him. “With you?”

Draco shrugs his elegant shoulders. “Why not? My parents are going to be away for a long time. This place is huge and it has a plenty to offer.”

“What do you want in return, Malfoy?” Her eyes narrow and nearly spits.

The long fingers pull back from her ankle to his own lap. Clenching his jaw he takes a deep breath and then pierces her wariness with all the truth he can project. “Nothing.”

“Why would a Slytherin ever give shelter and comfort to a Muggle-born Gryffindor ?”

Hermione knows that spitting in the face of one who has just offered her protection and shelter is probably not the smartest thing to do, but on the other hand, Draco Malfoy has had a tainted past with herself and her closest friends. He isn’t known for being the kindest of boys and certainly has made it clear how he feels about Muggles. Now with the power of being a man, he is even more dangerous. His father, mother, and aunt doing whatever they are up to, but where do his own loyalties lie now?

Yes she knows Harry would easily take her into his home, but he has Ginny and their own child on the way. The last thing they need are two more mouths. And yes the Weasley’s would probably always care for her, but honestly, she wants to be her own independent person like things would have been if she had broken up with Ron like she planned before she found out about the child.

Last of all, why would she want to be caught in a trap with a former Death Eater and a Malfoy at that!

The wizard who surpasses her own cunning skills stands up and steps back. Her verbal strike at him isn’t that surprising. He knew it would come sooner or later. In a way, he is very please it came now and he doesn’t have to wait any longer for it to happen. Still, it did sting a bit. For all the evil he had done in the past in the name of family and now here he is trying to help one of his own classmates, even going so far as to cross house-lines…

He shoves his fists into his robe’s pockets, “You are free to leave whenever you want. There is an elf just outside your door if you care for a meal before you leave.” With that said, he pulls his back up taught, and with his natural haughty pride, strides right out the door, closing it softly behind himself.

The elf who had brought the news to him earlier looks up to his master for further instructions. “Whatever she wants, take care of it,” Draco huffs the order out then silently strides back to his personal room to change. There will be no further sleep for him this morning, so mind as well get started on the day.

Hermione is left looking at a softly closed door. She’s angry but split on who she is angry at. Partly at Draco and his audacity to offer hospitality and not tell her up front what he wants in return. A Malfoy never does anything out of the kindness of their heart for they don’t even have hearts only desires for power and glory!

There’s where the other half of her anger rises: at herself. That was a bit harsh. She hasn’t seen or heard much of what Draco has done since the final battle and her graduation. It is a bit presumptuous of her to so easily dismiss that fact that he too could have changed. She witnessed it herself when his family turned their back. Yeah sure they fled, but they also did not assist the Dark Lord any further so they can’t be all bad right?

A nagging piece of her conscience is telling her to give Draco a break. To give him a chance. If nothing else to have a decent conversation with him and find out who he is without the influence of his family’s pressure.

Hermione looks down to her hand with the ring that Ron had given her in a promise to make a new life with her. Slowly she eases it off and sets it on the beside table. That promise is gone now leaving it up to her to decide what her future will be with out his influence. The pressure to keep him happy is off her shoulders now. No more wondering if saying something to someone else is going to make his jealousy flare up and cause more problems. From here on out, any problems that arise will be of her doing.

Sliding out of the bed she decides that there is one problem she should probably fix right now.

After a nice warm shower, a cleaning spell to her clothing, she redresses in her suit and makes her way to the door. She’s not surprised to see the elf Draco had left to attend to her. She gives him a smile, “Hello, could you ask your master if he would be willing to speak with me?”

The elf nods and dashes away. Hermione slowly makes her way down the hall that she did not see when she arrived last night.

She may not like the fact that there are still homes that use elves, but there is no reason to take it out on the elf himself. No, that discussion is for the master of the home that holds the power over them. Yes during school she had been on fire to stop the abuse of house elves. Now that she is an adult and there are more mature ways to handle things.

Hermione stops in mid stride going down the main staircase. Her naked left hand lays over her belly. There is going to be a new life she is going to be teaching her values to. A new life looking to her for direction.

“Ma’am, Master has asked me to lead you to his study if you would care to join him for a light breakfast.”

The mother-to-be lifts her head from her child to the large eyes of a small being at the foot of the stairs. “That would be kind of you. Thank you,” she makes her way down the steps.

Instead of starting her new life this morning as Mrs. Ronald Weasley, Hermione Granger is starting her morning in Draco Malfoy’s home.


	2. Chapter 2

Second Lives 2

　

The house elf opens the door to the study, “Master? The lady has come.”

Draco nods silently motioning for him to let her in. The elf returns the gesture to Hermione who gives a gracious tip of her head to him and then enters. As the elf closes the door behind her, she looks around the study.

The room is brightly lit with a large north facing window and lots of books. She could live a lifetime in this room and be very content. What surprises her most of all is the curtain pulled all the way open. The last time she had been at Malfoy Manor, the place had been gloomy dark. Even coming down the main stairs this morning, she noticed all the curtains to the main room open and the trees trimmed back allowing the place to be flooded with natural light. Cheery, welcoming, and not at all how she was expecting this old family estate to look.

“Hungry?” he asks respectfully standing for a lady.

Hermione pulls from her musing to the man so different from the one she was supposed to wake up beside this morning. Ron never had the best table manners. If he was on the other side of that desk, he would have still been shoving food in his mouth with one hand while beckoning her to sit with a half eaten something in his other hand.

Across the desk is not Ron Weasley, though. It’s Draco Malfoy. The former bully might have made snide and rude comments in the past to her breeding and her Hogwart‘s House, but he always has impeccable manners of upper class etiquette. Here he stands now with a hand to the back of the chair for a guest before an empty plate with in an open invitation to join him. The chair he has vacated has not only a plate of food with a fork carefully laid across the top, but a china cup on a saucer (not a mug).

Her own family may not be as rich as the Malfoys, but they always conduct themselves with civility. It’s not to say Ron’s family are slobs, just more relaxed, homely-like. Her family conducts themselves somewhere in between these two classes. It’s just been such a long time since she has seen her parents, that the clash between Weasley and Malfoy homes have made her increasingly homesick.

“Hermione?”

There it is again. A compassion she never thought she would ever hear from a Malfoy.

“Please come sit even if you don’t feel up to eating,” he holds his other hand out to guide her to the offered chair.

A bit lost still, Hermione takes the seat he offers and he returns to his own. She is grateful that he does not badger her instantly with conversation. He only lifts his cup to take a sip of his coffee and turns his attention back to a book beside his plate of fruit and fresh pumpkin bread. She notices the excellently painted diagrams of herbs which he follows with a finger, then makes notes on the pad of paper beside him.

“Are those the herbs Professor Snape taught us about in the poison lessons?”

Draco sets his quill down. He takes a reluctant breath before giving her a simple answer, “Yes.”

Hermione isn’t about to jump to conclusions too quickly, but there is something odd about the way he doesn’t look at her while answering. She’s not sure if it’s because she attacked him this morning or something else. As a guest, she’s not about to spit in his face again unless he attacks.

Instead she turns to the tray on the corner of the large desk. It’s a nice assortment of fresh fruit and several fresh baked sweet breads. She plucks a couple that her pallet seems agreeable to and takes a few nibbles.

“What have you been up to since graduation?” She asks her host respectfully.

Draco sets his quill down giving her his full attention this time. “Healing.”

She blinks, “Have you been sick?”

That lifts his face with a slight smile. “No, not like that. I have started my apprenticeship in the healing arts.” With a shrug of his narrow shoulders, leans an elbow to an armrest, and sets his cheek against a folded forefinger. “Well, I guess I have been healing myself as well.”

Hermione gives him a soft smile in return, “You look a lot healthier than I last remember seeing you.”

His lids lower for just a moment accepting her compliment. “I feel a lot better, thank you.” Taking another sip of his coffee, holds it with both sets of fingertips. “My parents are finally convinced that I am healthy enough to be left alone.” That statement is punctuated with a teenager-like roll of the eyes. She smiles in reply to the jest.

Here he is an adult where most of his former classmates are married and starting their families and his parents still fret over him as if he were a baby. Humiliating in a way for such a proud one.

“Other than the Weasley family, what have you been up to?” he tries to engage the conversation to continue respectfully.

The young witch takes a drink of orange juice touched with soothing cloves. “I was just getting established in my own office at the Ministry of Admissions when….”

When she trails off looking down into her glass, he softly finishes, “Oh, I’m sorry.” He pauses, then tries again. “Hey,” brings her eyes from her glass back to his silver ones. “There’s no reason you have to stop. Plenty of women have worked while expecting.”

She nods softly, “Yeah and I’m certainly going to need the income.” With a shrug and sad smile she continues, “Well I’ll save a lot of money by not traveling to see my parents at least and don‘t have to ask for the time off after all.”

Draco’s hands still, Hermione turns back to breaking off a bit of bread with her fork. The upper class gentleman does not offer more charity to the proud woman of her own right. He has already offered and she is not ready to make a decision, he will leave it at that.

“Do you like your job?” He does ask instead.  
She nods, “Yes. There’s challenge in researching information for people. There’s a joy in helping them with the knowledge I have.”

Draco smiles warmly, “Yes I do remember how much you loved the library and learning everything you could -and even those you should not!- get your hands on.”

Hermione does not hear a snide jab in that tone. If anything, it’s a compliment and a bit of encouragement. It makes her cheeks warm a tiny bit.

Draco does not let it show that his heart lifts to seeing her smile again. In the past it might have made him happy to see a Gryffindor cower in pain, but there’s just something so much more satisfying in seeing anyone (no matter the House) smile because of something he has done. “Anyway, it’s good to hear you are in an occupation you find successful and satisfying.”

Hermione nods and respectfully bats the conversation back. “Yes, it does. Do you find yours?”

Draco shrugs, “You win some, you lose some.”

That makes her brows knit. During Quidditch games, he never would have accepted a loss. Now, a loss of life is something he can accept?!

Draco shakes his head lightly seeing her perplexing. “I’m not a god. As arrogant and staunch as I am to be right, the truth of the matter is…I can’t control it all. Those battles taught me a lot about myself and where reality lies.”

She sets her fork down carefully as to set her elbows on either side of her plate then weave her fingers over the top. “Were does reality lay, Draco Malfoy?”

Her question is not mean in tone either. They both know she wants to know what became of the bully after he was working for the Dark Lord.

“My destiny is what I make of it. I may love my parents, but I am an adult. I can not be what they expected for the Malfoy Bloodline, I have to be …me.” He takes another bite of his breakfast and turns back to his notes.

“And just who are you?” She pushes the question a little further.

He doesn’t look up but does answer, “I’m not completely sure yet. I don’t expect anyone to believe me, least of all you or Potter.”

Hermione pulls her hands back to her lap pondering over his words while he continues to take notes in his perfect handwriting. She pays attention to how detail he is in his notes, how his eyes and finger point to a line in the book, then copy it down to his pad. He is very gentle in turning the pages of the ancient book, then back to his notes. The thin lips become a line in concentration, the brows pull together in thought, the eyes narrow in focus: it’s a side she never saw of him as a student, but as a man her heart lifts. She’s in safe hands with him.

“If you don’t mind, may I walk through the garden?”

Without moving his hands, he lifts his eyes to her. “Of course. Some of it has not been tended to recently so please watch out for loose stones. Would you like a guide, I can have one of the elves-”

Her face pinches in frustration to the Malfoy’s use of slaves, but says nothing.

Draco lightly chuckles, “You and I need to talk later about them.”  
Holding back no longer, Hermione’s fists clench, “YES!” Just as swiftly as she snaps, closes her eyes and drops her head to mutter, “I’m sorry.”

That just makes the Master of the Manor laugh out loud. It’s been such a long time since he’s had a good laugh, that it is hard for him to stifle it. “No harm done, Granger. Please enjoy the grounds. I must attend to some duties, but will be back by dinner. Shall I have an elf gather your things from the Weasley’s?”

Hermione, shakes her head lightly, “I-I don’t want them to think I hate them but-”

“You need to breathe?” He stands up and leans over to lay a hand to her shoulder. “Potter saw me take you away. I will send a note to him and let him ease the news. How does that sound?”  
Meekly she looks to him, “Like I am a coward.”

Once more she see something she did not think was possible for a Malfoy to express: compassion. “He will understand. He is welcome here too if you need his company. I know I’m not one of your best friends like either of them were.”

She nods lightly. “I think right now I need less friends or family and more of me.”

“Understand that,” he huffs lightly.

The brunette of tangled emotions and relationships looks carefully upon the sleek blond of calm. “Yes, I think you just might.”

He gives her a tugged smile then a soft sigh. “Really must get back to this.”

Hermione nods once more, “Alright. Thank you for sharing your breakfast with me.”

He too nods, but does not take his seat again until she exits the room. His long fingertips rub into his brow, “Merlin, what the are you doing Draco?!”

~~

Hermione steps out the door to find that same elf waiting for her. It’s easy to identify him by the hole in his upper right ear shaped almost like a heart. She takes a deep breath of guilt, but when his large eyes are looking up awaiting her needs, she can’t help but give him a smile. “ I was going to head out to the garden, would you care to join me?”

“If that is what the mistress needs, I am yours to oblige.”

Hermione crouches down, “Do you have a name?”

“Boa.”

She rolls her soft brown eyes with a slight shake of her head, “So Slytherin!” yet gets back to task holding her hand out. “Boa, I do not want a servant. I wouldn’t mind a companion though.”

He gives her a smile, then a squeeze to her hand before leading her out of the large manor into a beautiful garden. Yes there is much that still needs to be worked on, but the oak tree in the center of the of the garden stretches it’s branches out and far has been tended to carefully. The tree has got to be ancient, almost looking older than the manor itself.

As she walks around the huge tree, she sees a swing. Not a child’s swing, up what they call a ‘lover’s swing’. Just cozy enough for two under a full moon night.

“This used to be one of Master Draco’s favorite spots,” Boa releases her hand to hold it still so she can sit.

Hermione takes the offering looking round. Before her is a view of the pond, but with the way the other branches come round, it can not easily be seen from the main house. Definitely what can be considered a hideout. “Do you know why he liked it so much?”  
“A quiet place away from his parents.”

She can’t help smiling into her guess. Guess she does know the man better than she thought. She helps Boa into the seat beside her and they let the gentle breeze blow over the pond up to them. Last night’s rain still has the ground slightly damp but not soggy. A nurturing rain satisfying the white daffodils in the pond’s island center.

“How has he been?”

Boa twitters with his fingers remaining silent.

Hermione tries again, “I don’t want you to betray your…master (the word hisses out), I just want to understand him better.”

Boa looks up to her searching for her sincerity. When he sees it, gives another smile. “He is better. Much better than he was during the last two years of school. Actually,” he beams even brighter, “he’s been so much happier since he has arrived.”

“He?” Her brows perk.

Shamefully Boa looks down to his twittering fingers, “Oh my mistake. I thought that is why Master took you in. Forgive, I-I must go!” In a flash, the little elf is gone.

Hermione’s fists clench. She’s torn between wanting to give that Malfoy a second chance and punching him in the nose again! Is he being sincere in taking her in after Ron’s death or is he using her as if she was a common house elf!

“Dinner tonight is going to give you indigestion, Draco Malfoy!” Hermione promises.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sabath and I have been discussing ideas, so I want to make it clear, if some of this sounds like what he is doing in Out of the Ashes, yes credit is to be given to him. He has influenced me a lot and we are in agreement on certain timeline issues (and not liking how certain things were resolved). On the other hand, this is NOT part of his AU. Just need to give credit and make some things clear.


	3. Fathers and Godfathers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yep, I finally updated. Enjoy.

Second Chances 3  
  
  With Boa running off, Hermione is left to entertain herself. Yes she is furious, but also knows she really doesn’t have any reason to be.  This is Malfoy Manor and what happens here really is none of her business. If Draco is brewing up new trouble or hiding away other dark secrets (or people for that matter) it really is no concern of hers. Yet still that nosey side of her is bothered.  
   Hermione knows she needs to calm down before she does something rash she will regret.  She heads for the flagstone pathway that winds from the great oak tree to the pond and past. Getting some fresh air should help clear her mind, just like when she used to walk around the lake back in her school days.  
  
  Halfway around the enormous pond, she looks back to the great grey and black stoned building. Unlike the last time she was here as a prisoner, this time she is a guest. Unlike last time when she was bound and restricted, this time she is given an open invitation and hospitality. Unlike the Weasley home where she is hovered over, Draco is respecting her privacy by not being invasive.  He is respecting her need to be free and breathe.  He’s not prying into her business, just being strong and supportive by her side… if she wants or needs him.  
     Hermione knows she should not go nosing around the Manor like some sneak. Still it does have her curious about who Draco has hidden in this estate. Maybe he snuck his father out of prison?  
  
      She walks on, scattering a few forging ducks in the process. If Draco did help his father escape and has him hidden here, would she tell anyone? Would it really matter?  
    There is one thing she can not deny, is that Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy love their only son very much. As a single child herself, she knows how smothering that can be. For him as the only heir to a huge legacy, it’s that much more weight on his shoulders.   
   It’s enough to make her pause.  
  
   Now that the war is over, Lucius has lost his social power. Narcissa has hardly been seen.  This has left Draco in charge of not only this huge sprawling property, but finally out from under their thumb to make his own life. Their love will always be there, and he will never want to worry them, (that is quite evident).  
    Herminie sighs knowing she needs to talk to him some more. Maybe being too brash at dinner might not be a good idea. After all, he did rescue her and not just physically with shelter, but with his verbal support to her being a single working mother…if she wants.  
  
     She heads back to the house and up to the guest room. The mass of questions running through her head along with the knowledge that she has a safe place to ponder it all has her feeling tired. The jacket is set aside and she curls under the blankets for a short nap.  
  
~~~  
     While Hermione has been pondering through his garden, Draco has send the note to Harry as he promised and returned to his herbal explorations.  
  
       Shortly after noon, the library door opens and his mother enters. Narcissa is paler than normal. Draco is at her side swiftly and guiding her to sit on the couch.  
     “Mother?”  
    She takes his hand tightly in both of hers. “He’s gone.”  
     Draco gulps hard, lowering his head. “I was too late in finding a cure.”  
    “Draco…,” she squeezes his hand again which make him look up to her tear filled eyes. “Your father….”  
    The world stops. The air can not enter his lungs. “What?”  
    Narcissa cups her son’s cheek and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “I’m so sorry. I just got an owl. Someone poisoned your father.”  
    “P-poison?” He hates how weak and childlike it escapes him, but this is his father after all. “Who…?”  
    She shakes her head. “There’s not much for details right now.  All the note says is that at morning bed checks, they found Lucius dead. By the coloring to his lips, it was poison and he probably passed during his sleep.”  
     Draco’s mouth is dry and no matter how he tries to swallow, he just can’t. In a silent keen, his head bows into his mother’s lap. “Dad…”  
     To see her strong adult son need his mother once again, regains some of her strength she had lost upon entering this room to break the news. She strokes his head like she used to when he was young and sickly. A soft whine breaks from him, and he shakes in silent sobs.  
  
      Yes his father had been tough on him, but it had all been to make his son strong. Even when they dragged him away to prison, Lucius showed no weakness. He made it clear to his son that he expected much from the heir and to continue to make the Malfoy name proud.  
      All this time, Draco has been working hard not just to further himself, but to uphold his promise to his father. He had so hoped to find the solution to his current project and proudly show the results to his father. Now he will never get that chance.  
     “It’s alright my son,” Narcissa coos to him and leans over to press her face into the young man‘s hair so much like his father‘s. “You know he loves you, right?”  
      Draco nods his head silently in her lap. As much as his father had be haughty, there was his own form of love to be shown. After all, what he had done was to protect and even to provide for his son, even if the alliance was a bad choice.  
  
        Mother and son stay like this for a few more moments just comforting each other. Then with a sniff, Draco lifts his head and pulls a small handkerchief from his inside pocket. He dabs his eyes and nose, and then pulls his back up straight and proud as he tucks it away.  
       Narcissa dabs her own eyes and smiles to Draco pulling himself together.  
       “Arrangements must be made, I guess.” He stands brushing the wrinkles out of his slacks.  
       “Draco, look at me.”  He sighs, and then does. “We can do that tomorrow. Today, let us go together to see to your godfather.”  
        He gives her a tight nod, and gathers up his notes. “I want to try a new potion this time.”  
        “Do you want some help gathering the supplies?”  
       Draco smiles, “I would like that, Mother.”  
  
~0~  
      When Hermione rises from her nap, she finds that it is well past noon, pushing on to early evening. She can’t believe she slept that long, but she does feel a lot better than she has in a long, long time.  
       To her delight, she notices her red trunk within sight. On top of it is a handwritten short note from Harry. He promises to be there for her, if she ever needs it, and pleased she is not alone right now. They all understand her needing a bit of space.  
       It warms her that Harry is not mad about her staying at the Malfoy Manor.  It is also a relief that that aren’t crowding her in her time of grief. She certainly can NOT face them right now!  
  
       With a warm shower, and fresh clothes, Hermione exits the guest room. Just as she steps out, she sees Narcissa and Draco heading down the hall away from her with a tray loaded with potions. Neither one sees her, too wrapped up in talking to each other.  
     This does make her curious because Draco had said his mother wasn’t at the manor at this time.  They certainly did not act like she had just returned.   
       Hermione knows this is a very bad idea and probably very rude, but she tiptoes down the hall and at the corner they round, she pauses to keep herself hidden. She watches them enter another bedroom, and when the door is closed, she notices it isn’t locked.  
     Swiftly she dashes down to wait outside the door to eves drop.  
  
     “I’m not sure if this will work. It could make things worse, rather than better,” Draco says with a tinkling of glass bottles.  
     “We have to try. Just do your best.” Narcissa warmly encourages. That does surprise Hermione to hear.  
     “Here goes nothing,” he huffs and the sound of liquid being poured into a larger glass container of liquid is heard.  
      After a few moments, a soft and sickly moan is heard.  
      Narcissa’s delight is evident as she praises, “You brought him back!”  
      “I owe it to him. I owe him my life…,” Draco reverently sighs. “But don’t get your hopes up, Mother. He is far from back to real life.”  
  
        That piques Hermione. Ever so slowly and praying the door doesn’t squeak, she cracks it open to peek in. The door might have been silent, but her gasp sure isn’t.  
      Neither Narcissa or Draco notice as they are examining their patient.  
       Hermione pushes the door open a little further and makes her way just inside the door just to be sure who she THOUGHT she saw in the large bed.  
       “Professor Snape?” she whispers.  
       Draco jerks his head from the patient to the new voice. “Hermione?”  
       Narcissa looks between Draco and Hermione with her own confusion, “Miss Granger? I thought you were getting married?”  
      Hermione points a shaking finger at the figure in the bed, “I-I thought he…died.”  
      And then to Draco’s chagrin both ladies turn to him, “What’s going on, Draco?”  
      First his eyes roll to the ceiling, “Merlin help me,” and then with a sigh, tells them both. “I’ll explain in a moment, first, let me see how he is doing.”  
       Hermione comes closer as Draco examines Severus Snape closely. His breathing becomes more regulated, his pulse a bit stronger, but he still doesn’t awaken.  
  
       All three of them wait by the bedside as Draco drops another dose into the glass IV bottle hanging by the bedside.  The rubber tube hanging down is not attached to the potion master’s arm, but to the neck where the huge snake had bit him so long ago.  
       Over the course of a third dose of Draco’s potion, they can see Severus’ color improve. Although the man has always been a bit on the pale side, at least his veins are not showing quite so much anymore.  
       Narcissa pats Draco’s hand, “Why don’t you get something to eat with erm, Mrs. Weasley or is it Miss Granger? I’ll stay with Severus.”  
        Hermione blinks still surprised Narcissa is polite and calm.  
        Draco gives his mother’s hand a squeeze. “We will bring you something to eat.”  
        She pats his cheek, “My son, such a gentleman.”  
       He snorts, “Father will have my ass if I’m not.” Both of them grimace as soon as it comes out. “I’m sorry.”  
       She gives him a weak smile, “Don’t be. He still will.”  He doesn’t move until she gives him a light shove. “Go.”  
  
    With a dip of the chin to her, he motions to Hermione that he wants her to follow him.  
   
    They are silent as they make their way down the main staircase and into the huge kitchen. She gets the plates and a tray as he gets supplies out for sandwiches.  
     He can’t look at her as he speaks. “My father died last night in Azkaban.”  
     “What?!” a plate clatters to the tray.  
     He winces to the loud sound, but keeps on his task. “Yes, I lied that my parents were away. My father has been, but my mother has been tending to Uncle Severus.”  
     “Did-did you say Uncle Severus?”  
      His knife slaps to the counter top and he clenches his jaw. “Yes! Severus Snape is my godfather! I found him after Potter left his side. My parents and I managed a suspension spell and I have been trying to find a cure for the snake’s venom.”  
     “All this time?”  
     He nods. “Yes. Part of why I have been taking the healing courses.”  
     He goes to pick up the knife, but his hand and voice shake. “I owe him my life. I had hoped to show my father… now I won’t be able to.”  
      Hermione takes the knife from his hand and this time it is she that wraps her arms around him in support. “I’m so sorry, Draco.”  
       His arms wrap around her in mutual support. “I’m so sorry for you, Hermione.”  
       Neither one has much to say right now both of them having had the rug yanked out from under them both. The feel of mutual loss and support is a saving grace right now to soak up.  
  
      Her stomach grumbling makes her blush and him snigger. “I think the little troll is hungry,” but there is no malice in his tone.  
      Her fingernails are just sharp enough for his lean sides to make him wince, “Watch it or I’ll rat you out to your mother.”  
     He pokes her back, “My mother thinks I can do no wrong.”  
     She picks up the knife and threatens him with it, “I’ll convince her otherwise.”  He just shakes his head and goes back to helping prepare the meal. “What are you going to tell your mother about me being here? Is she going to be alright with it?”  
      “Mother and I have been through a lot since father was incarcerated. No one else knows we rescued Severus, just incase we couldn’t heal him. I think she will be fine with you being here. Besides,” he beams a smile at her, “we have an ace potions student with us now.”  
      Hermione pushes that thought through the air. “That was ages ago! I’m not sure I remember much to be helpful.”  
      Although she is being light hearted, he tries again. “Hermione… would you be willing to help me? I mean, when you aren’t doing your Ministry work.”  
       There is almost a plead to him, how can she not look up to him and ponder the question seriously.  
  
        After the war, their last year at Hogwarts was difficult at best. She’s pretty sure all the teachers just let her class pass no matter how they actually did on their exams. Someone them had proven themselves in practical applications that would never be on any written test or probably ever needed in the real world ever again.  
     Hermione had to admit, she did feel bad for Draco and a few of the other Slytherins that year. Not only had a lot of them (and their family members) been followers of the Dark Lord, but a lot were either arrested or killed. Others were shamed by either standing for or against the Dark Lord. The Slytherin house was divided and not to mention the other houses staring down their noses at the normally haughty ones.  
     On top of all that, the Slytherin’s had lost their head of house. She knows how she would have felt if she lost Professor McGonagall. The one person they could turn to in times of need. The one the little ones went to when homesick, the one the older ones went to for career advice.  
    Draco had separated himself from not just the other Slytherins but everyone else. She had seen some of the middle years try to come to him for advice as if he was Professor Snape, but he would sadly shake his head and advise them to seek someone else. Soon enough, everyone left him to himself.  
  
      Now she finds out, he has been trying valiantly to resituate his godfather. To give life back to one, who had stepped in and took Draco’s curse upon himself at Dumbledore’s orders.  
      Hermione reaches out and lays a hand on his. “Are you kidding? Access to the Malfoy library? I would be a fool to turn that down.”  
      Draco gives a light huff, but can see she is seriously saying yes.   
    “Besides, I owe Harry.” For now, she won’t tell him she’s doing it for him alone.   
     Draco rolls his eyes and plops the food to the tray, “Should have known.” He picks up the tray, but waits a moment to tell her seriously, “Thank you.”  
      “Thank you for taking me in, Draco,” this does come straight from her heart but it is he that tinges with color.


	4. Chapter 4

  
  
      Draco and Hermione make their way back to Severus’ sick room.  The room may face east, but it has enough of that huge oak tree’s branches to shade it and make the room quite dark. In the fall and winter, when there are no leaves, it must be quite bright.  
    The bed is pulled up close enough to the window that if he is to awaken, he will have a beautiful view, without it being too bright to hurt tender eyes.  
     Hermione opens the door, and Draco carries the heavy tray in. Narcissa is still in the large comfortable chair where either she or Draco have spent many a restless night (and day) at his side. With a flick of her wand, Hermione has the large table drawn closer to Narcissa and Severus. Draco flicks his wand and two other chairs join the table where they can all comfortably sit and keep an eye on Severus.  
     Once his mother is served, Hermione seated, and Severus checked over again, Draco finally takes his seat. First thing is a nice heaping cup of strong tea.  
  
   Hermione turns to Narcissa, “Mrs. Malfoy, my condolences on the loss of your husband.”  
   Narcissa quirks a brow to Draco to find out how the younger lady found out. He gives a slight shrug of his shoulder to confirm it came from him, as if he hasn’t much to hide from Hermione. Then she turns to Hermione and gives her a genuine smile, “Thank you Miss, or is it Mrs.?”  
     Poor Draco is put on the spot once again as she looks to him to find out if it is safe to reveal the truth. He once again gives a slight shrug, leaving it in her hands. Hermione scowls, for he is no help there!  
     “Did something happen?” Narcissa tries again. Just what has Draco done now to Granger and Weasley!  
      Hermione takes a sigh, and faces the older woman. As a recent widow, she can probably understand her a bit better than anyone else. “Ron died the night before our wedding. Draco has been kind enough to let me stay here until I can figure out what to do now.”  
     Narcissa sets her cup down and reaches a hand out to cover Hermione’s and she flinches for just a moment. It pains Narcissa, but she can’t really blame Hermione after what her own sister did to the poor girl.  
      “Miss Granger, you have nothing to fear from me. I am, and forever will be horrified by what my sister did.”  She gives a slight squeeze and is please when Hermione doesn’t cringe back. “We’ve all lost a lot,” and gives Draco a sweet smile, “But we haven’t lost it all.”  
     There’s a warmth in the widow’s hands that Hermione never thought she would receive from the woman. She covers that hand and gives her own squeeze right back.  
     When she looks up, she sees another Malfoy that has also shown her much compassion recently.  It makes perfect sense now.  She smiles to Draco. “Yes, we do have much to be grateful for. A lot of healing.”  
      And as if on cue, Severus gives another moan.  All three of them are up and out of their chairs in a moment. Narcissa to one side of the bed, Draco to the other, and Hermione at the foot.  
  
       “Severus? It’s me Narcissa, can you hear me?”  
     “Nuu..uuugh,” and something else a bit slurred from the very dry throat.  
    Hermione quickly presses a glass of cool water into Narcissa’s hand. Draco helps his godfather rise up a little to he can take a sip of the water, but it just dribbles down his chin. In a flash, Hermione dips a soft cloth into the glass and presses it to the older man’s lips.  Carefully sponging it into his mouth, his attempts at speech come out much clearer.  
      “Narcissa? Lucius- no… Draco?” His vision is still quite blurry, and saying those few words is all his strength can handle right now.    
       Carefully they settle him back and return to their seats.  
    Narcissa dabs her eyes with her linen napkin. “I never thought I would hear him speak again, let alone say my name.”  
     Hermione smiles taking a bite of her sandwich. Draco is the one to explain. “Uncle Severus has been a friend to my mother for a very long time.”  
     Narcissa blushes, “I had a crush on him in school, but he was clearly interested in someone else.”  
   Draco rolls his eyes, “THAT, I didn’t need to know!”  
   The two ladies can’t help but giggle at the mature Malfoy childish embarrassed by such personal information about his mother.  
   After finishing her bite, Hermione speaks up.  “I always thought it was your father Professor Snape was closer too.”  
    Narcissa shakes her head clearing things up. “With Lucius, it was more like a business arrangement. Yes there were both part of the Dark Mark circle, but it was Severus that I went to with my concerns for Draco’s health and well being.”  
    “Mother…,” his pale cheeks turn so red.  
    “Look Draco, you and I both know the truth-”  
    Draco cuts her off by shamefully turning to Hermione with a silent plea to help him out of this embarrassing moment. Hermione actually feels sorry for him and it helps her to understand a bit more about the Malfoy family.  
    “Well, he certainly looks better fit than I ever saw him in school. I mean, back when we were kids, he looked like the slightest blow would knock him over,” she shoots him a smile.  
    “Granger!” He leans in with a nasty scowl. That was quite a painful blow to his ego that she gave him. Many never let him ever forget, even in his last year of school.  
     Her eyes go wide to his retort and then it hits her what he THINKS she is referring to.  “NO! Oh Draco- I didn’t mean THAT, oh Merlin…,” and it’s her cheeks that go bright red this time.  
     Narcissa flicks her attention between the two in hopes they will reveal what they are silently arguing about.  
    “Then just what DID your mean?” he snarls.  
     “You’ve filled out. Y-you know, gotten taller, less pale, more muscular…” and she stammers some more as his expression changes from one of embarrassed-anger into a whole other kind of embarrassment. Quickly she shoves more of her sandwich in her mouth.  
      Draco purposely does not look at his mother, but it does surprise him that Hermione has noticed anything about his appearance.  He won’t lie that he has also noticed that she is a more mature woman not the young teen back in school. She seems to have calmed down as much as she too has physically taken good care of herself. Filled out her curves rather…womanly.  
     
     Quickly he downs his second cup of tea and returns to Severus’ side to check on him.  The ladies are silent in finishing their light meal.  
    Narcissa tidies up the dishes to the tray and calls Boa in. “Boa, please take care of these for us.”  
   “Yes, Mistress,” the  elf bows and takes the dishes away.  
   “How long will you be staying with us, Miss-”  
   “Hermione, Mrs. Malfoy.  It’s okay to call me Hermione.”  
   “Hermione, and please call me Narcissa. If this is going to be your home for awhile, then we can be on a less professional footing, don‘t you think?”  
    The well up of tears leave Hermione to only nod. She will blame it on hormones, of course.  
  
     Narcissa smiles and then rises up. “Draco, I’m going to rest.”  
    “Alright, Mother.  I will let you know if there is any change,” but doesn’t look up from where he is taking careful notes.  
      This gives Hermione a chance to once again see adult Draco hard at work.  
    Now that she thinks about it, there’s a furrow and narrowing to the brows that he had in Final Year potion classes.  There’s something cute about the way he tugs and toys with his cufflinks as he ponders.  And when the light goes on in his mind. A bright smile and glint to his grey eyes. Not ice, just a warm almost silvery look.  
    Hermione smiles, waits a moment longer and then makes her way quietly out of the room and down to the library.  
  
~~~  
    This is where Draco finds her later.  He has come to the library for a bit more research, but instead finds Hermione on the padded leather window seat sound asleep with a book in her hand. There’s two more on her lap and about five more on the floor beside her.  
   This makes him smile.  
    He scoops up the quilt with the Slytherin coat of arms off the rack near the fire and comes to her. Carefully he removes the books from her lap as he tucks the blanket up over her. Sure he could carry her up to bed once again, but for some reason he doesn’t want to. Right now he wants to read his own books with someone else in the room.  Even if they are sound asleep.  
    He goes to tug the book from her hands, but she clutches it tighter, muttering, “I’ma still reading that.”  
    “Your eyes are closed,” he sniggers.  
   “Osmosis,” she grumbles not giving up the book.  
  “I’m not familiar with that spell.”  
   “Shut up, Malfoy.” There it is, the same way she used to sneer his name back in school. It pains until her other hand tugs the blanket under her chin a bit more snuggly. “Thanks, Draco,” and the heavier sleep-breathing is back.  
    Ah, now he understands. Her first retort was a tease to him teasing her. “You’re welcome, Hermione.”  
     He leaves the book in her hands and goes to his desk where he continues his research.  
  
      Later, a screech from his Eagle Owl lifts his head. The perch on the corner of the desk is strong enough for his heavy weight and strong talons. Plus he knows exactly how to pry the lid off the tin to get his reward. He keeps one leg extended to Draco to take the scroll while digging into the bowl.  
     Draco does not chastise the bird when he takes a larger than normal serving. Instead, he gives the owl an extra scratch to the cheek. “Off you go, Elliot.”  
      And he does.  
      “Elliot?” Blanket bundled Hermione settles into the comfy padded chair across from Draco, who clasps a hand to his chest.  
      “Damnit Hermione, give a guy a heart attack will you!”  
     She can’s help but laugh lightly. “I’m so sorry, Draco.”  
      “Suuuure you are,” he flicks her in the forehead.  She squeaks.  
  
     Her sound makes the owl make another pass over the desk before he flies up off to the corner of the vaulted ceiling. The corner is pretty dark from this distance. “Where did he go?”  
      Draco hands over a pair of opera glasses and with a flick of his wand, a pointed but soft beam of light illuminates the high corner. “Elliot and his mate have a clutch up there.” Elliot makes it clear he doesn’t like Draco’s light disturbing his nest.  
        “Oh!  How sweet to have it here in the library!”  
         He moves his beam of light to a round window high in the pitch if the wall. In stained glass, the window has a gorgeous owl in flight. Elliot’s mate lands on the extended sill in front of the window and then pushes the bottom with her head and neck. The pivot rod- hinges allows her out, but the weight of the window settles it back closed.  
     “Genius!” Hermione beams. “Safely sheltered home for them, and yet freedom to come and go.”  
     “My grandfather considered it economical to have them roost so close to where they will be working. I consider it safety, like you do. Either way, it works for both. Do you have an owl?”  
     Hermione shakes her head. “Not any more. She died during the war when the Owlery was hit. So I just used the Weasley one for a while.”  
  
     Draco nods in understanding.  There were a lot of losses during the war. “How is your cat? I didn’t see him during the last year.”  
      Once again she sadly shakes her head. “He didn’t survive either. Crushed by falling stonework.”  
      Draco grimaces. He may not be into cats, but that’s still a bad way to go for someone who truly loved their pet like she did. On top of her parent’s memories being wiped, she really would only have had Ron and Harry. But with the way Harry was focused so hard on his studies and his relationship with Ginny, he can so see how she would have clung to the only relationship she had left. Even if it wasn’t perfect.  
     “I’m sorry to hear that.”  
     “Ron wasn’t,” she huffs.  
     “Ron’s an idiot.” And flinches. “Sorry -yet again.”  
     Hermione pulls her wand out and points it right at his throat. “You want to do something for me? (he nods) Stop saying ’I’m sorry’.” But he doesn’t say anything at all. “Crap happens. People die. Wars happen. We hurt each other. We move forward. We were all idiots as kids. Swept up and sucked up into an adult war far before we were ready. And you know what?!”   She whirls out of the chair tossing the blanket into it.  “Your parents, the teachers, Ron’s parents - they all knew our childhood got shot to hell.”  
         She heads for the door in her old stomping way. But each step closer to the door, she knows how childish that is, and so slows down. “Now I’m sorry, Draco.”  She takes a deep breath.  “You have been nothing but kind to me, and here I am being a childish bitch.” She turns back and see him start to stand and say something, She holds a finger up, “So help me if you say it’s pregnant hormones making me this way, I will smite you.”  
    Instead he sits down and waits a moment. “You don’t think that has anything to do with it? I mean no disrespect, but you have been run through the wringer the last couple of days.”  
  
     Hermione also lets her shoulders slump. He hasn’t been demeaning in any way, just asking a simple factual question. She comes back to settle in the chair, bundling the blanket in her lap. “Once Ron knew I was pregnant, he would blame everything on hormones. It was like I suddenly had no rational brains anymore. Just a psycho-crazy person who can do anything. All my schooling: poof! Gone. Like I’m supposed to give up my career just because I have a bun in the oven.”  She shakes her head.  
  
     “Look, I didn’t hate him, other wise I never would have slept with him.”  
     “Cared for him, don’t make it crass, Hermione.”  Draco puts truth to the situation. “I know you cared about him. You wouldn’t be so upset if you didn’t care.”  
    That’s a bit to chew on, for Hermione. “I don’t know if I loved him any more, though.”  
    Draco leans forward. “I know you love that child, though.”  
    She looks down and her finger trails over her belly. “Yes.”  She won’t say ‘of course’ for that is too easy to say with out much meaning behind it.  
     Draco gets out of his chair and kneels by her side. “Hey, that is what is important right now.  Look, just focus on staying healthy and providing for you and your little one. YOUR little one. Don’t let anyone tell you how you should feel or what you should do to let this child know how you felt about Ron. That is no one’s business but yours. And if you want,” he lightly pinches her nose childishly, “I’ll hex or sock them in the nose for you.”  
    Hermione leans out of the chair to wrap her arms around his neck securely. He knows she needs real support right now and holds her just as snuggly to his chest.  
   “You’re a good friend, Draco,” she sniffs into his neck

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Muse is fickle.  
> Writing chapters are hard, but I am in no shortage of short scene ideas (as I drift off to sleep) Putting short scenes together to make a chapter and keeping it flowing... that is the art.
> 
> But here are teasers for short scenes my brain is musing and hoping to extract from daydream mode, to literature mode.
> 
>  
> 
> Stuffed dragon  
> Herbal sales to muggle small industry  
> Herpetology antivenom  
> young owl as a gift  
> toy ferret   
> Burrito and tossed salad blankets  
> sharing Dragonheart movie with Draco


	5. A walk in the garden

Draco 5  
     
    Hermione’s hug stays with him the rest of the night in the library. By morning, he is ready to be reenergized by another of her honest hugs. Seeing her smile at breakfast, he knows that will have to do instead.  
   “You found me,” he smiles pouring the groggy woman a glass of juice.  
   A sip and a light giggle she shakes a triangle of toast at him. “Who says I was looking for you? Maybe I was just after your books, hm?”  
   His right hand palms his chest, and dramatically throws his head back, “Granger you wound me! Take my hospitality and abuse me with it!”  
   She starts laughing to the point of starting to choke on her toast. The shot of worry in his eyes makes her blush. But another sip of juice later and she is waving him off that she is all better.   
     It makes his heart smile that she curls up into the leather chair, tucking his Slytherin blanket around her as if she was comfortable in her own home.  
  
     On Hermione’s side of the table, she notices that he still wears the sliver ring of his House, now with green emerald dots for eyes. “Forgive me for prying-”  
   “Never,” he smirks that devious grin of his. “But you may regret it.”  
   Her jaw goes slack. Wow, there is still a bit of the old Draco in there, but now with a humorous twist to it. It’s not charming…. It’s… well… her spine shivers.  
     His brown rises to tease again. “You were saying?”  
  
     And that’s when she gets it. Her hug last night has loosened him up a bit more. The playful side has found her safe to be with. He already knew he could trust her with secrets -- hell she kept enough during school!-- and she is honorable, but now, he feels safe enough to let more of himself out. The playful side.   
   In school she had seen his cruel playfulness, but that was a power play. With maturity, comes refinement of playfulness. Where she had gotten much more serious as she got older possibly even losing her ‘fun-ness’, he has not. It’s comfortable and safe to be with him now.  
    Yes, once again he is letting her know she is safe around him.  
  
     “Well, I was going to say, ‘what happened to the Slytherin girls standing in line for a chance at the Malfoy Heir‘, but now I see why.” Devious little smirk right back at him.  
    This time it is his jaw that goes slack. “Well…damn.”  Totally bewildered by her punt back at him, he shakes his head. “Sure you aren’t part Slytherin?”  
     “Nope, this is pure Granger Sass.” She flicks her long ponytail, “Got it from my dad.”  
      Draco’s rumbling chuckle is music to her ears. In a toast of tea cup to juice glass, he praises her, “Welcome to my world.”  
       She drinks to the toast. With a flick of her wrist, she floats her chair around the desk  so that the large piece of furniture is no longer between them making the situation more friendly.  
  
     It might be seven in the morning, but Draco is already in slacks, crisp long sleeve shirt complete with monogrammed cufflinks.  For his crisp shirt and slacks, the wizard robe is a complete opposite, looking like it has seen many better days. With a closer scrutinizing, black stitching on the black fabric, Hermione can see the scripted L S M.  This is one of his father’s old robes.  
  Draco leans the comfortable leather chair back, propping his stocking feet to the desk, and flicking the robe around his legs. “Truth is, Malfoy money is being dusted off and spent. My father didn’t argue about the charges against him, but did plea for me to be absolved. He refused to spend money on his defense that could be used to provide for me and Mum.”  
     Hermione scoots even closer to prop her own feet next to his. “Money isn’t everything.”  
     “To certain people, it is. But more than that, Lucius Malfoy was know for his control of the ‘powers that be‘.  I am not. Nor is my mother. Lastly, that is not the life I want to live. You just never know where the knife in the back is going to come from when you live like that.”  
      He shrugs, taking a sip and gives an example. “Look what my mother did to the Dark Lord. Stabbed him in the back, didn’t she?”  
     Hermione nods. “She’s very brave.”  
     Draco points to her belly, “She’s a mum.”  Then he looks into her eyes, “Not all manors have a Mum. They may have matriarchs, patriarchs, and lords, but not all of them have a mum and dad. That’s what I had.”  And he lays his hand over hers, “I know that’s what you will be. It has nothing to do with money or power.”  
       He takes a deep breath and feels her squeeze his hand right back. “The Malfoy name is tainted now. I want to find something that will help us provide for ourselves, but have nothing to do with politics. Like back with my great grandparents. That’s a reason I am digging through these old tomes. Getting back to basics.”  
  
      Hermione squeezes his hand again. The warmth of her squeeze radiates up his arm, across his chest making his smile spread out once again. It brings back a sparkle to his eyes once more.   
   “What kinds of things are you looking into?” She asks with a soft voice.  
    “Tell you what, after breakfast, put on your comfortable shoes and I will get you a broom and I can show you.”  
    That quickly drops her feet and has her pulling away from him. “Ah, no thanks.”  
    His poor brow furrows in confusion. “I don’t understand.”  
    “I…don’t fly.”  
   “Don’t or not very good? Because it’s not like we are racing or playing Quiddilich.”  
    Hermione folds herself up into the chair again, pulling his blanket tightly around herself. “I’m…. afraid. I don’t like heights.”  
    “Ahhhh,” he nods softly sipping his tea. “I understand.”  
  
    When he says nothing more right away, she looks up to him. “You aren’t going to tease or force me or anything? Mock me for being a muggle witch without even her telltale broom?”  
     Draco’s brow furrows deeply. “Is that what that jerk Weasley did to you?! Or Potter?”  
    “Harry wasn’t so bad, but the Weasley family didn’t understand,” she mumbles and nibbles on her toast.  
   “Hey, look at me.” And she does. He’s leaning into her, cupping her free hand. “Take it from someone who did what everyone wanted him to against his will, and then HAD to in order to save his parents’ lives… shoving and forcing someone past their comfort level can do some serious damage to them.”  
     Tears dibble down her cheek making her huff. “Damnit Draco, would you please stop making me cry!” Fiercely pushing them off her cheeks with her palms, she then backhands his chest lightly.  
    But he doesn’t let go.  
   She’s drawn to look up to him again. He gives her a supportive look trying once again. “How would you like to go for a walking tour of the Malfoy gardens?”  
     Once again, she is dribbling tears and squeezing his hand. “I’d like that, but only if you tell me why there isn’t a Mrs. Draco Malfoy.”  
     It’s the cutest tip of his head. “Hermione, that’s easy. I haven’t found her yet. No one moves me to want to spend the rest of my life with them.”    
     ‘Until now,’ he bites down on his tongue to keep it from slipping out. It also startles that it came so quickly to his tongue tip.  
  
    The strange expression across is face has her adding just a bit more. “I would like to see what makes Malfoy Manor a home to you.”  
    He beams, and drains the last of his tea. It makes her giggle once again and has them both finishing their breakfast rather quickly.  
  
~~  
     After breakfast, they change and meet back at the library where Draco leads her out to the garden via his favorite entrance: a door behind the botany section of the library. She teases him about it not being very creative and he pokes right back that not everyone is a genius. Complete with scrunched face and tongue sticking out.  
   But she socks him solidly in the arm, “Nah, nah, nah. I saw your grades, Malfoy. You are no slouch as much as you liked to played it off.”  
   “How! How do you know my grades, let alone how do you know I didn’t fix them or bribe others? Hum?”  
    There she is blushing again. So with a snooty nose in the air, she avoids his eyes, “Well… I do have to check out the competition. Can’t let some Slytherin best a Gryffindor.”  
   “Merlin, swear you surprise me more and more why you weren’t put in the Slytherin House,” he warmly chuckles.  
   She looks down, finding the garden snake at her feet quite interesting and mutters to it, “Some days I wonder that myself.”  
  
     He hears her muttered something to the snake, and quickly comes to it’s rescue scooping it up and out of her way. “This one is non-poisonous, Hermione, no need to be afraid of him.”  
    She’s about to retort that she knows that, when she sees how gently he handles the innocent creature, setting it free in the brambles sure to have a gopher or two in it. “Do you have any poisonous ones in the garden?”  
   He nods looking around with a keen ear out. “Um, I don’t hear any nearby, though. Then again, they might still be asleep.”  
   She sniggers, “Yes, well there are some days I too do not want to get out of my own cozy bed.”   
    He watches his toe nudge a stone off to the side of the path as they walk shoving his hands into his Docker pockets.. “I’m glad you did today.”  
    Hermione loops a sweat shirted-elbow through his heavy cotton jacketed one. “Me too. So, show me your favorite place!”  
    Even with their arms looped, he nudges her back. “Ah, no.” She pouts and he gets that evil grin again. “Now why would I jump to the good stuff first? Nah, I’m going to make you wait and writhe in anticipation as I drag you through brambles and thorns.”  
    Now she playfully scowls, “Draco, you are an evil, evil man.”    
    But he just laughs heartily and gives her elbow a tug to the right fork in the path.   
“Come on, Granger. After all those deadly adventures with Potter and Weasley, you think I’m going to let them show me up?”  
     Using all her weight, she shoves him off balance nearly knocking him into a rose bush. “Really Malfoy, whenever are you going to give up competing with him?”  
     Draco playfully sneers righting himself, “Never!” And they both laugh knowing there is no real malice between them any more.  
  
 ~~  
    As they walk through the garden, the sun burns away the morning mist. And as the rays come out steaming out, the day warms up. Not only do the humans shed their outer layers, but the reptiles come out to bask in the warming light. Even Draco had no idea how many retiles and amphibians lived on the family property as they reveal themselves today. Is it her that makes them more willing to expose themselves?  
   
   Hermione keeps back as he crouches down and begins talking softly to a known venomous snake. It’s rather cute the way such a known dangerous animal tips his head like a curious puppy as Draco reaches out with only a finger tip to stroke the diamond mark on its broad head talking to it softly.  
   Still she doesn’t move, not wanting to scare the creature and striking at Draco. Even as tame as this creature looks, she knows it is still a wild animal to be respected. And that is just what Draco is doing now. He is not asserting dominance over the animal or even bewitching it, he is just showing the respect a living creature deserves.  
   After a few moments, Draco rises up and steps aside so that his shadow will not interrupt the snake’s basking.  
   
     He turns and sees that Hermione really does see past all his shed facades. That this really is the adult Draco Malfoy. Once more, he finds himself smiling warmly with her.  
    With a curl to his wrist, he leads her down the path and towards the swing that looks out over the pond. She sits down beside him and they just watch the ducks paddling slowly across and the turtles climbing up on their rocks to bask.  
  
        With a new breeze blowing softly, Hermione giggles at the tree snake dropping down before them and giving them rather curious looks. Draco reaches out and taps the very tip of the snake’s extended tongue, to which he shakes his head. Draco giggles too.  
     “How… friendly are your snakes?” She asks.  As an answer, the snake drops himself down further to inspect her.  
     “They aren’t MY snakes, they just happen to live on the same land as I.”  
      It takes a few tries, but then she has the nerve to touch the snake’s back.   
     “What are you thinking, Hermione?” Rather surprised she is actually touching the ‘scary Slytherin creature‘.  
      “Well, “ she tells the snake more than Draco, “not to offend, but how willing would they be to give some of their venom to make medicine? It wouldn’t harm the snakes, but it may not be comfortable either.”  
      The snake turns his head to Draco and asks for more information so he passes on the question. “What do you mean?”   
       “Anti-venoms. Both for animals and humans who have been accidentally bitten. It could save lives. And…,” this is the part she’s a bit wary how he will take, “It could also be a source of honorable and beneficial income for the Malfoy Manor.”  Then she rolls her hand around the rest of the place. “On top of that, I see so many plants here that many muggles use for homeopathic and herbal remedies for those who do not use conventional muggle medicine.”  
       Draco blinks and settles back to look around the large garden and estate in a whole new light.  “I hadn’t even thought about the muggle world.”  
      “Is… is that a bad thing?”   
       Her nervousness makes him reach over and lay a light hand on hers. “No, it’s not a bad thing.”  He takes a long pause and squeezes her hand. “But I do have a problem.” She looks up to his serious face. “I…I don’t know ….anyone. I wouldn‘t even know where to begin.”  
      She turns her hand over to give his a proper squeeze. “I could help you.”  
      And there he gives her a wary look.  “You know it’s more than just business contacts that I will need help with. It’s Muggle World socializing. I really don’t want the Malfoy name to look like fools in their world just because I flubbed up with a poorly placed word.”  
    Hearing that he still needs to carry his family’s name with pride makes her smile. “Well, we certainly can’t let that happen, now can we? Once a Malfoy, always a Malfoy.”  
    “Damn right!” He shoots an arrogant look at her, but it doesn’t carry as much punch as it would in the past.  
  
~~  
     They wander around the garden for a couple hours, shedding their outer wear as the day warms up further.  
    Hermione leans her head back, closing her eyes and inhaling the wonderful scent of mixed herbs and blossoms. “Umm, I would love to nap right here.  Basking like a cat in the sun.”  
     With a swirl of his wand, the stone bench becomes a softer cushioned one complete with pillows. “Why don’t you do just that? I should check on Mum and Uncle Severus. I could bring lunch back and we can discuss that business proposition further.”  
     She sinks to the plush bench and instantly leans over. “I feel like such a wus.”  
     Draco sniggers though, drawing the light throw over her, “No, you are caring for another life and it’s just biology. Hermione Granger is anything but weak.”  
      The soft pillow under her head along with the beautiful day pulls her quickly down into a garden slumber, “ummm’kay.”  
       With a whispered request to the Monitor Lizard under the bench to look after Hermione, Draco heads back inside.  
  
~~  
      He takes the stairs two at a time. There is a lightness to his heart and shoulders he hasn’t felt in a long time.  A further hope and purpose to his life that he has been waiting eons for.   
     With a light rap of his knuckles to the door as a warning, he then enters his godfather’s room.   
    Severus is reclined against the headboard and with Narcissa’s help, swallowing the broth she is spooning him. More alert than last night, his dark eyes brighten at the sight of his godson.  
     “Draco…,” a very weak and scratchy voice breathes. The broth is helping with the dryness but still his voice hasn’t been used in so long.   
      Draco’s heart soars as he nearly runs to the bedside. “Uncle Severus!” He doesn’t even hide the moisture blurring his vision.  
     Narcissa pulls back so that Severus’ weak hand can reach out for Draco’s cheek. Draco lifts it the rest of the way leaning his cheek into it. Severus gives the man in front of him a weak smile as his thumb rubs at the escaping tear. “How…are you?”  
    “I’m doing alright, Uncle. Better now that you are awake.”  
    A single chuckle escapes, “Not for long… old man.”  
    Draco beams though rubbing Severus’ cheek in return. “Well you did survive that blasted snake’s attack. Been in a coma for a few years, so I can’t blame you too much.”  
    “No wonder you look older.”  A soft pat of fingers to Draco’s cheek. “Afraid *cough* dark lord *wheeze* aged you.”  
     The blond head dips and he chuckles back, “No more like worrying over YOU aged me.”  
    Severus snorts and tries to pinch Draco’s cheek in rebuke, but it just leaves both their eyes twinkling in delight instead. “Pay-backs.”  
     That makes Draco lean forward to press his forehead to Severus’. They’ve been through hell and back together.  
    “I’m so sorry,” Draco’s eyes close and he whispers.  
    “Dra-co…look at me,” it’s the strongest Severus can muster right now and therefore Draco must. When Draco’s silver eyes are fixed clearly on his uncle’s pure obsidian ones, Severus continues. “I took a vow as your godfather to protect you.” But more than that he pats Draco’s cheek, “I would do it again even if I wasn’t your godfather.”  
  
      Draco pulls back shaking his head softly.  As much as he wants to argue the point that to the public he was a spoiled brat, he can see there is something more Severus saw. Severus saw the potential in him as a man, standing on his own.  
    The child he protected, the man he supports.  
    “Thank you, Uncle,” Draco honorably takes the praise.  
    Severus only gives the softest of nods, and then rolls his head to Narcissa. “Tired.”  
     With Draco’s help, Narcissa helps Severus recline and tuck him back to sleep.  
       
     Draco picks up the dishes and his mother holds the door as they exit giving their patient a quiet room to rest.  On their way to the kitchen, they talk.  
     “How is Hermione?” Narcissa starts.  
     “Napping in the garden. I’m going to take her some lunch, care to join us?”  
     Narcissa smiles, “Ah yes, that first trimester is draining. Are you sure I wouldn’t be intruding?”  
      Draco sets the dirty dishes aside and gets a fresh set while Narcissa pulls out food. “Actually, I think we could use your input on a business proposition for the Malfoy Estate. Your skills in the greenhouse could be vital.”  
     That does perk up Narcissa. “I would like to be DOING something again.”  
     With a flick of his long fingers back towards Severus’ room he nods. “It could be good for him too. He won’t have to go back to teaching.”  
      She sets the pitcher of herbal tea on the tray with her own lifted heart. “Having a positive purpose in life does make things a whole lot brighter.”  
      “Indeed,” he sets the bowl of fruit to the tray. “Let’s go talk to our new business partner.”


	6. Putting him to rest

Narcissa and Draco's soft conversation brings Hermione out of her nap, even though she would like to stay there forever. The tinkling of dishes to the wrought iron table lifts her head.   
   "Hey," she smiles with a stretch.   
   "Hey yourself," Draco hands over a plate of healthy salad. "I told Mother about your idea."   
   "I would really like to help. It think it will be just what everyone needs. Not just the Malfoys but for all of those who once served the Dark Lord trying to turn over a new leaf and find a new path," Narcissa adds pouring them all lemonade.   
   "I have a few more days of leave from the Ministry, so I could go into London and investigate. They have some of the best international connections as well. It could help you network with other wizards in other lands as well. This could be the beginning of a huge enterprise."   
   Draco takes her fork and lays her hand to the table. "Whoa. Pull on the reins for a moment there. Your Granger enthusiasm is running away from you, again.  You have no idea how black-balled we have already been and I refuse to hide. I will be upfront, well as upfront as I can be when it comes to Muggle communication."   
    "Speaking of which, I will HAVE to get you on the internet. Sorry, but there are some things the Wizarding world is so in the dark ages about."   
    "Internet?" Narcissa nudges for more information.   
    "Think of it like the newspapers and magazines and libraries of all the world all accessible on an electronic level. Muggle magic you might say."   
    "Incredible!" The older woman is in awe.   
  
      Before Hermione can continue, Boa comes to them, placing a note between Draco and Narcissa. Both of them excuse Boa and reach for each other's hands. Hermione can see the Azkaban seal on the envelope. She too reaches over to take Narcissa's other hand.   
     Draco opens the letter and skims it. "They have an appointment time for us to pick up his remains. They are only going to allow one of us. I'll go."   
     Narcissa shakes her head, "No, Draco. I am his wife. To death do us part. I promised him that even death would not part us, this is my responsibility. You make arrangements here. Do you know what to do?"   
    "Yes, I know. It's not like there will be anyone else attending." He folds up the letter and gives it to his mother. They both know that he will not be treated kindly by anyone if he goes to the prison. At least as the prisoner's wife, it will be understood why she comes and can drape her face in a veil to keep others from looking at her directly.   
    "I would like to let Harry know, if it would be alright."   
    Draco nods, "Yeah, that will be fine. But please do not tell him about Uncle Severus yet. I don't think he is quite up to dealing with Harry yet."   
    Hermione gives a light huff to that, "Yeah, I can understand."  She gives Narcissa's hand a squeeze, "Do you want me to go with you? I might be able to use my Ministry credentials."   
    "No, my dear. As sweet as that is, no. I need to do this alone."   
  
     The rest of lunch is quiet with bits of conversation about the herb and herpetology business.   
  
     After lunch, Narcissa makes herself ready to go to the prison. Hermione makes sure she is at the fireplace to give the recent widow a last tight hug before she walks into the horrible place her beloved died in. In spite of everything, this is a woman who just lost a man she loved dearly.   
      With a green flash, she is gone. Draco is still standing there lost in his emotions. "I should have gone."   
      Hermione reaches out wrapping an arm around his waist, leaning on his shoulder as she too watches the flame burn from green back to orange and red.   
      "If I am intruding please let me know.... is there a reason you are an only child? They sounded like they wanted more."   
      Draco wraps his arm around her shoulder, keeping her close to his side. "I don't want to scare you."   
     "Draco, I just buried Ron, I've already been afraid of stressing out and losing this baby. Not to mention everything else."   
  
       His hand on her shoulder slowly slides up and down her arm. Then he turns her to sit on the comfortable couch where they can still watch the fire. Apprehensive at first, he becomes a bit stronger as the story goes along, never letting his hand fall from around her, nor does she release his waist.   
     "Mother was very sick while expecting me. To the point she was stuck in bed towards the end. They wanted a large family, which is one of the reasons I think my father resented the Weasley's so much. Fate is just not always kind.   
    "Anyway... I arrived early and was very sickly. It was a struggle to keep me alive. I was always a bit of a sickly child which is probably why they spoiled me so rotten. Mother was never able to conceive again."   
      Hermione leans in further wrapping her other arm around him. "I was an only child because that was all they wanted. Guess I was too much to handle."   
  
     A long pause and Draco wraps his other arm around her. "Heh, well more than one of you would be a terror to the world."   
     For that she pinches him and he tickles her right back.   
     "Do you want more children? " he asks her after letting them both settle back.   
    She just laughs, "I think I better survive this first one before I make any plans. Besides, it will be hard enough raising this one alone."   
     "Yeah," is all he can think to say right now. Too many thoughts swirling through his brain.   
  
       He takes a deep sigh and rises. "I need to prepare for Mother's return."   
      "Do you need any help?"   
      Draco looks up to Severus' room. "Could you look after him?"   
      "Of course."   
      "My notes are by the table, but please don't tell him about father yet."   
"Of course."     
  
        Draco makes his way to the garden but to a place he did not show Hermione. Down this nearly forgotten path, is where the Malfoys have been laid to rest. With a whisk of his wand, he clears away the fallen leaves and the brambles to clear the path up to the huge white marble urn in the middle. Around the outside are headstones of other family members, but in this urn are the ashes of those who have been cremated. His father has wanted to be cremated so that no one could come back and terrorize Narcissa or Draco by dragging his decaying corpse further through the mud.   
     First he washes the white marble by hand and then with a steady hand, Draco adds his father's name to the great urn. It is not easy to do when his eyes threatening to water, but he gets through it and then fills in the engraving with gold.   
     He stands back and scrutinizes his work. With a touch here and there, he is finally satisfied with his work. He returns to the Manor to await his mother's return.   
  
       While Draco is out there, Hermione is seeing to Severus.   
       Carefully and with dignity, helps the ailing man change his clothing and the bedding. She even gives him a sponge bath. It renews his vigor and even leaves him awake a bit longer.  They are able to talk for a bit and get some more broth into him before he drifts back to sleep.   
     Hermione does not tell him about Ron or Lucius.  Nor does she tell him about her baby. No, just that she is here spending time in Draco's library. That does amuse him with a tease about her being a book worm. A tease from him is all she needs to know that he is well on mend.   
      She leaves him to rest, asking Boa to keep an eye on him, and heads back to the stairs in time for Narcissa's arrival.   
  
       Narcissa sets the lonely cardboard box on the mantel, arms falling limp at her sides like an old and wilted flower. Draco pulls her to his arms holding her while she sobs.   
     "You're home safe, Mother."   
      "It was awful. Just awful. They don't care that he was once a person that was their ally.  All they see is the criminal.... murdered under their so called 'care'."   
       Draco knows that she doesn't actually need answers just support while she rants. As angry as he is, he is also relieved that it is over. As long as his mother and he stay clean, they shall be left alone and never have any reason to fear being put in that place. Draco knows that he will never lead his own children down the same path that he was forced by his father. NO, never!   
  
       Narcissa's sobs eventually dwindle and she pulls up, wiping her nose. "Let's do this. He deserves to be at rest."   
     "He would want us to finally move forward with our lives," Draco hands her another handkerchief.   
     Hermione closes Severus' door again as to announce her presence. Both Malfoy's look up to her. "He's resting again. I gave him a bath and changed the bedding. He should rest well now."   
  
      Narcissa holds a hand out to Hermione. "Will you come with us?"   
      "I would be honored," she takes the widow's hand.   
  
    Twice in one week Draco has attended funerals. Both uncomfortable, both before their time. This time there will be no officiant. This time it will just be the people who loved Lucius Scorpius Malfoy to the very end, and one guest.   
     Draco uses his wand to lift the ornate lid from the huge urn, and Narcissa uses hers to lift and pour Lucius' remains into the urn.   
     "I loved you when we were young. I loved you when you were a father. I loved you when you were lost. I will love you forever, Lucius." Narcissa blows a kiss.   
     Draco has to clear his clogged throat and try again. "Thank you father for trying to look out for me. I've got it from here. I know what to do. Rest in peace."   
      With that, he sets the lid back on sealing it with a spell.   
  
      Hermione steps away first giving them time alone.    
      Later Draco does, but only to the library where he waits until his mother comes inside. Once she is in, he makes a final check on Severus. Not surprising, he finds his mother curled up to Severus. She needs someone to focus her energy on now. He pulls a blanket over her, and blows out the light.   
      He makes it to his own room where he changes to a grey t-shirt and flannel pajama pants. Then curls under the blankets and sobs himself to sleep.   
     He does not hear the rolling thunder or the crackling of lightning.   
     Nor does he hear the soft padding feet of his bundled intruder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you followers for your patience.


	7. Chapter 7

The last time she was in London, Hermione had been picking out a wedding dress. Although the thought of a new adventure is exciting to her, Hermione is not quiet sure how the memory of going with Molly to begin her life as the latest Mrs. Weasley will effect her.   
  
   Adding to her roiling thoughts, the rolling thunder and all too close splintering lighting, Hermione is sure she won't sleep a wink tonight. But nor does she want to sit in this large and strange room all alone. She really misses her cat.     
  First she goes to Severus' room, but sees Narcissa curled up next to the retired professor. Softly she closes the door and heads back to her room, only to pause outside Draco's room.   
   She lays a hand to the door handle three times before she finally turns it ever so slowly. Hearing no squeak or creek, she pushes it open a bit more. "Draco?"   
    She hears nothing. 'Maybe he's not even here,' she ponders lighting only the tip of her wand. Not much, just enough that she won't trip over a shoe or something. She heads to the padded window seat, but first she must pass the large bed and it's night stand.    
     The lump in the bed moves ever so slightly, and Hermione stalls. Draco moves no more, and she directs her wand's light to let her know if his eyes are open. It's hard to tell with the blankets tossed and tangled like some sort of linen tossed salad. The different soft shades of green and silver/grey make her smile. He might dress sharp, but he's a sloppy sleeper.   
    Pulling her own burrito of a thick quilt a bit tighter around herself, she turns back to the window. That's when she jumps at the shadow of a dragon. Clutching her wand close, it changes the lighting in the room.  That's when she sees the plush snow white dragon sitting on the bedside table. The mother-to-be almost laughs out loud to a child's toy giving her such a jump.    
   "You are a bad dragon," she whispers, picking up the large toy giving him a bob on his snout. But he is rather gorgeous all trimmed in apple green satin. It's plain to see that his plushy fur is smashed down by years of love and cuddling. It's actually kind of cute that adult-Draco has such a thing still by his side.   
  
      "Her-Hermione," a groggy voice comes from the bundle of blankets. "Everything alright?"   
     Once more she is about to jump, clutching his dragon this time. "Shit."   
     Draco moves a bit so he can see her more clearly. "Oh, you found Scorch."   
     "He's adorable," she blushes stroking the head.   
     Lightning strikes right outside the window with an instant roll of thunder making her squeak. Draco sits up, reaching for her hand. "Hey, hey, it's okay. Come here."   
   With a tug, she is down beside him. He manages to find his top blanket throwing it over them both, yet still tangled in his lower blankets. "Better?"   
    She still has both the dragon and the lit wand against her chest, but she manages to pull the quilt over her head like a hood. All she can see now is Draco's face. "Better."   
    Still the storm rages outside with howling wind and so much more. "Damn, thought I would be over these by now."   
    He snuggles a little closer to her, wrapping his own hand around a piece of the dragon. "I took Scorch with me to Hogwarts, but hid him.  When I could, I made him invisible, couldn't let anyone know I slept with a 'toy'."   
   "He's no 'toy'. Dragons are protectors, guardians, warriors. Your greatest ally or greatest foe."   
   "Yeah, but when you are putting on the façade of being  badass and menacing, needing your plushy to sleep with at night doesn't go very so well."   
   "Or being a Slytherin?"   
   "Nah, other young Slytherin's could have their toys, but not a Malfoy."  He sighs, playing with the wing. "My parents didn't want me to take him. Father because he didn't want me to look weak, and Mother because she wanted a piece of her child still at home. I hid him in there anyways."   
    Hermione nods. "Yeah, we did you a lot of grief, didn't we. Didn't really give you a chance to be 'just a kid' always wearing the mantel of a family crest."   
    Draco can't say anything. Today he buried his father. He is the LAST Malfoy. Everything is on his shoulders now and if he does not have a family, it will all die with him. All will crumble.   
     It's all up to him now to make the name:  rise or fall.   
  
      Although he is bundled, his head bows buried into the soft dragon.  Hermione threads her fingers through his hair to keep him close. Grief does not go away in one day. You learn how to move with it, beyond it. The trick is to not to let it bog you down.    
     He reaches a hand out, under his blanket but over hers.  Right now, he needs to cuddle something alive and warm. A future, even if it's just a friendship.   
  
~0~   
    Come morning, Narcissa looks in on her son. It brings a soft smile to her to see him cuddling Hermione. The blankets are a complete tangled mess, but she can see they are completely clothed. Well, at least what pieces of them she can see.  Her heart swells, and she silently steps out of the room to let them sleep longer. They both could use it.   
  
      Draco comes to the surface first, but with no intentions to move from his cocoon. What he does see is his 'dark marked' arm laying beside her 'mudblood' scarred one. He strokes a thumb over hers. The uneven bumps are mean and cruel. Oh how he cringed and silently cried out as he watched his aunt scar this strong young woman forever.   
      Hermione feels the soothing touch to her arm. Yes she could have tried to cover it, and normally she does wear a long sleeve. Getting it repaired with cosmetic surgery would do no good seeing how it was cursed as it was put on. The soft touch to it does warm her.   
    "Hey," she whispers to him watching him stroke the mark. She reaches her own hand out to stroke his own scar.   
     "Hey," he adjusts just enough to look at her in her sleepy face, hair a tangle of curls and fluff.   
     "I often though about what to do with this," she smile gracing his arm.   
     "Really? Do tell."     
     She calls her wand to her, and smirks to him, "Watch." He watches as her wand plays with colors and paint around the black lines of the snake and skull. Soon enough there is a long haired cat face with his twitching tail.  Draco laughs seeing this.   
     "I take it you have others?"   
     Over the next hour, they play with her wand and his turning his dark mark into all kinds of silly images. Some are rather detailed and fun, but for the most part, just plain silly.   
    "Okay, but let me see your arm," he says rather amused.   
     With no hesitation, Hermione hands her own marked arm over. "Close your eyes." She does, feeling the tickling of his wand's brush like strokes.   
  
     After a good length of time, he pipes up. "Okay, you can look."   
     It brings a surge of joy to her. The 'mudblood' is now a vine with little flowers adorning it. But in a sweet script above and below her scar, it now reads, "My mudblood friend."   
      Hermione takes her wand, and saying a soft spell, it sparkles and then she can touch it. She looks over to Draco, beaming a smile. "Thank you."   
     He knows the spell she just spoke would make his art work a permenant tattoo. He's blushing badly that she has accepted his spontantious bit of art work as a gift.   
      She rubs her thumb over it, snuggling a bit closer to it. "Whenever I looked at it, I saw it as a badge of honor. We actually survived and won."   
     He runs his own finger over the bumps. "I'm sorry you had to go through that pain and ordeal."   
     Turning her head ever so slightly, she looks into his sweet grey eyes and whispers, "I know you did."   
     He can't move or even breathe, "You-you did."   
     Now she moves a bit more to run her own thumb along his jaw, "I think you were in more turmoil than I. Ron, Harry, and I defiantly made out choices knowing we had nothing to lose. Ron's parents were behind us, and neither Harry or I had family to worry about. But you..." He starts to shift his eyes, but her next stroke, has him looking back into her own. "You had everything to lose. Your parents were threatened. In turn, they were trapped by their love for you. Voldemort used your love an loyalty against you all. I saw the pain, I saw the struggle written all over your face and stance."   
     "Did you... hate me?" It sounds so meek.   
      Hermione smiles leaning in closer to press her forehead to his. "I hated the spoiled brat you were before. I sympathized and fretted over the man you were becoming. Yet, pitied you."   
     Draco pulls them close together, burying his face in her mess of hair. These last few days have been so good to him.   
  
      They lay there just being warm and cuddled until it is getting to be that uncomfortable moment of 'what do we do now'. Draco smiles against her top.   
    "I do have a question for you, though."   
    Warily she draws out, "Yessss?"   
    "How in the world do you tame this mass on your head?"   
    "DRACO MALFOY!" She yanks back slapping him in the chest, to see him beaming and laughing like the brat she remembers.   
  
     In a pretend huff, she tries to storm off the bed, but the blankets are a disaster and she ends up tumbling to the floor. He clamps a hand to his mouth to stop the laughing with eyes of concern, but she's crumpled on the floor giggling.    
     "Oh you!" She throws a fallen pillow at him.   
  
  
     Hearing a ruckus, Narcissa rushes upstairs and flings open Draco's door. Feathers, fluff, and glitter are everywhere. "Draco Scorpius Malfoy!!" It stern and slow.   
     With a pouted lip, and a puff of air to clear the feather from his nose, he thrusts a wanded hand at Hermione, "She started it!"   
     Narcissa can only gape. Did her adult son just use a childish response?   
     "But he did deserve it," Hermione tries to look shamed, yet clearly is not.   
     Narcissa wages who she should get on to, but it's too funny. On top of that, she hasn't seen Draco having this much fun in a long time. So she just pushes a hand through the air in a 'whatever' fashion and leaves the room.   
     "Are we in trouble?" Hermione seriously asks him.   
      He scratches behind his ear with a scrunched up face, "I'm not sure. But we probably should clean this up."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the positive support.


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